I would love to post more stuff. But sometimes getting my muse and my laptop in the same place is nigh on impossible. Alas.
Life has been extremely busy with work and, well, Life. My oldest child is now off to school (college, that is) 500 miles from home! It was a tearful departing. My wife drove her out while I stay home to get the youngest, back to school today. It was exciting and very sad, too. She was scared, facing into the prospect of "going out into the world on her own." Off course she will be in the protective cocoon of college, but we know there is a big difference. She is quite bright, very talented, and she will do well. But she doesn't know that yet.
In hugging my wife before they left, I know that she (wife) was having a recognition of our family "breaking up." Of course the child off to college is "normal". What is coming down the road (when? oh when?) is the not-so-normal break-up of our family. It added to the pain of the moment. I think this is what made it a painful, sad time for me. Knowing what's coming, but having no idea what if will look like.
I am feeling so very scattered, out-of-focus, depressed, down on myself, useless, etc. I could go on and on, but you don't want to hear it. I am my own worst enemy. No one can say much to me to put me down or criticize me that I haven't already said to myself, in spades. The comments or observations of others just magnify things for me, intensify them, confirm them. See? I really am a big shit.
Like I said, I'm my own worst enemy. But years (and years) of therapy have helped me see (in my head, at least, if not in my soul) that I can do many things, accomplish all sorts of stuff, and have actually done some of it well. Still, the demons gnaw away at me. [Blessedly, only one of my several therapists thought I could be "straightened out." And even she was a lot of help, otherwise.]
Seriously, I do not know how I keep going, but I do. Not much alternative, I suppose. But the pain, the weight, the shame (even), the depression is heavy. Others have so much more to deal with, (it seems) that I can't see why I should complain. But this is the only shit I must go through. This is my story, so I'll cry if I want to.
In the midst of it all, there is much for which to give thanks, much for which to be very grateful. And I am. I think that is something that keeps me going. Focusing on the gratitude has such power, even as I wallow in the sadness.
Onward, upward, forward. More later.